Replay
by SoMuchForSobriety
Summary: When Allison tries to sleep after everything on the night of the recital, she hears an ominous sound coming from her window. The events of that morning replay again at midnight, and Allison finds Isaac sitting right outside, though neither of them want the scene the play out exactly as it did earlier that day. ONE-SHOT.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.**

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**REPLAY**

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Allison pulled the cover over her body and twisted her head against her pillow, waiting for sleep to take her. It had been a long day, what with the revelation of her English teacher being the killer who was going around tying people to trees and slitting their throats with sticks and ropes. She was also pretty emotionally exhausted; after all, she had suffered through what she perceived as betrayal of her father and the inner turmoil that loomed thereafter—he was her father after all, no matter how strained the rope between them was, but if he was plotting murders, then he had to be put down.

Despite her fatigue within and without, Allison found herself gazing at the ceiling, seemingly pondering about life. There was nothing much in her life that needed pondering upon; things were either crystal clear or they were completely invisible. But there was something—_something_—that unsettled her. A phantom touch—was it a touch?—ghosting around her hand, guiding it around the map in her father's study room. A body, intricately and perfectly carved, smitten under the weight of her own body. The unforgiving hardness of his neck through which her knife would had had to probe in order to inflict any serious harm. His scent lingering in her car after they departed at the recital.

_Isaac_.

Allison threw the covers over and stepped out of her bed, not unlike the way she did this morning when she caught Isaac stalking her—or as he put it, checking up on her at Scott's behest. She paced around in circles around the spot that stood between her bed and her closet—the same place where she threw Isaac onto the floor and pinned him down.

Then she heard a click.

Allison didn't hesitate. She darted into her closet and—apparently she forgot to lock her little suitcase of knives earlier—grabbed the nearest knife she could get her hands on. Quickly, but not any less vigilantly, she walked out of her closet and faced the window. There was nothing visible out there besides a few clouds, darkened by night, and the moon, a shining scar against the empty dark sky, rising to its full glory that would beckon the wolves to howl.

_Click_. She heard it again. Not willing to waste any time, Allison thrust the window open and reached out to grab—

"Isaac?" Allison said in surprise—so much that her knife clattered to the ground—, her hand fisted tightly in his shirt, her arm caught mid-reflex.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Do all our encounters have to be this violent?"

Allison's heart jumped at how loud he spoke. "Shut up," she whispered firmly. "My dad's asleep. Can you imagine what sort of thing would go down if my dad came in to find that a werewolf has snuck into his daughter's bedroom in the middle of the night?"

"Well technically I'm not really in your bedroom," Isaac said, his eyes pointing at her hand, still grasping his shirt so hard if she added any more pressure she was sure the fabric would tear right off. "So can I come in? It's freezing out here."

"_Come in_?" Allison said incredulously. "Oh no, Isaac, you're staying where you are until you tell me why the hell you're here." Isaac rolled his eyes and Allison fought the urge to just bat his eyes out of his sockets. "And don't tell me Scott sent you _again_ because he wouldn't do that this late at night."

Isaac glared at her. "No, Scott didn't send me."

"Then what are you doing here?" Allison said, anger seeping into her voice.

Isaac didn't respond. Upon realizing that Isaac didn't have a legitimate answer to give, Allison's face heated up. "Have you lost your—" Allison resisted the urge to swear, "—mind? Were you just bored and you suddenly had the idea of stalking me of all people in the middle of the night? What's wrong with you?"

"Shut up," said Isaac firmly, though his tone lacked the cruelty with which she had said the same thing to him. "You'll wake up your father."

Realizing how loud she had shouted, Allison released Isaac posthaste and clamped her hand over her mouth, as if that would reverse the damage she had done. Driven purely by panic, she turned to Isaac and gesticulated desperately for him to leave.

Then to her equal surprise and horror, he laughed.

She was so dead.

"I've never heard a human's heart beat so fast," Isaac said offhandedly. "It's actually quite fun watching you like this."

Allison fixed him the best death-glare she could give.

Seeming to sense Allison's rage, Isaac threw his hands up in surrender. "Calm down. He's not coming, alright? I'd be long gone if he was. But," Isaac's lips twisted into a smirk. "I think you're going to have to let me in or I'm just going to have to get you to scream loud enough to wake him up."

Allison took a step back in yet another bout of surprise. This night was seriously full of surprises. "Was that a _threat_?"

Isaac leaned forward, "Would you accept a threat?"

Allison bit her lip and that was all the hesitation he needed to swing himself into her room, closing the window behind him. Allison opened her mouth to protest, to say that he wasn't going to be staying in her room for long, but she decided against it.

Instead Allison crossed her arms. "So now that you're all comfortable, why don't you stop ignoring the question I've been asking you for the last five minutes and tell me why the hell you were lurking outside my window?"

Isaac shook his head with an amused look on his face. "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

"God, you sound like my dad."

"And you sound like you're annoyed when you really have no right to be."

Allison scoffed in irate disbelief. "_I_ have no right to be annoyed? Okay, I'm not even going to have this conversation with—"

"You still owe me an apology," interrupted Isaac, his eyes cast down at his own shadow on Allison's wooden floor. "You know, this morning when Scott asked me to look after you, I was _really_ reluctant. Like, 'reluctant' doesn't even begin to cover it. But then I got found out and then I stayed and helped you. I protected you through any potential dangers that could have harmed you because let's face it, you're a badass hunter but you're still no werewolf with spontaneous healing. And throughout all that, I still did not receive the apology I was promised."

"I never promised—"

"Your ingratitude is unbelievable."

"I—" Allison caught herself. Indignation pulsed through her body like an inferno, but she knew that he was right. Maybe he wasn't exactly being fair about the whole apology thing because technically she did apologize, but okay, she did stab him more than once, so maybe one apology didn't suffice. Besides, he did wrap his body around her when bullets were being fired straight over her head despite the fact that she had just pressed a knife to his neck that same morning. Okay, Isaac Lahey probably deserved all the apologies she could give in the world. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry? I couldn't hear you."

"Shut up, you have perfect hearing," Allison retorted, then, realizing that she was being even more of a bitch than she was a second ago, she sighed and said it louder. "I'm sorry. And thank you, for everything."

Isaac looked satisfied with her response. "Well, then I'd better get going." He moved toward her window.

"Wait, what?" Allison took a step toward him, though she did not recall commanding it. Silently she cursed herself.

Isaac wheeled around and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"No—nothing," Allison stammered. Isaac turned back to the window.

Inexplicably, Allison didn't want him to leave. Not yet, at least. She felt like there were still affairs that they hadn't gone through yet—words that had to be spoken, gestures to be recognized, memories to be shared, fights to endure through—between the two of them. Allison could feel words—words that had been pent up and shaped in the deepest pits of her heart—settling somewhere along her spine, with no exit to her mouth. Something about this moment felt so necessary and important, like the birth of something new in her life. She had to say whatever it was that she had to say. If she had to push it out of her system to get it out there, then that was what she would do.

"Does this mean we're friends?" she said.

Isaac perceptibly froze, like this was the last thing he'd expected. He spun around with a playful glint in his eyes. "Was that a suggestion?"

Allison smiled, recalling the past two times they spoke like this. "Would you accept a suggestion?"

Isaac laughed, a sound that disarmed her senses just as how his sudden appearance at the window literally disarmed her. She knew that she would never get tired of it.

"I would," he replied.

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**A/N: So that's that! Did you like it? ;) If enough people request it, then I might write a second chapter to this, but as of now, it's a ONE-SHOT.**

**EDIT: Since so many of you have requested it (I LOVE REVIEWS SO THANK YOU VERY MUCH), I am indeed considering writing a second chapter. But the thing is, I wrote this story right after episode 9 aired, so I was bustling with Allisaac feels, which I guess (I'm no psychologist here) temporarily roused my writing skills from whatever slumber they were imprisoned within. I'll definitely take my time with this second chapter, because I don't want it to ruin whatever miracle I might have done here, so just bear with me for a while?  
**


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